


Back to Hogwarts

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-14
Updated: 2010-11-23
Packaged: 2019-01-19 23:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: "James Potter. Just thinking his name made my blood boil."Lily Evans is in her last year of hogwarts and suddenly she has a whole slew of things to deal with. One being a certain James Potter. Technicallly AU, but as canon as I want it.





	1. Days of summer

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Authors notes: This is my first serious fanfic, and I really have no idea whether it’s good or not, or how to do this. However, I do hope that you will read it, enjoy it and PLEASE review. Even if it’s to tell me how crap it is. I just wanna know what you think. So here goes... Chapter 1. Home

      I sat motionless at the window, staring out at the thunder, lightning and pouring rain. Water droplets ran down the glass and I smiled, remembering the days when I used to get so excited and treat it like a ‘race’. I’d pick one droplet and cheer it on. Petunia would join me, cheering the other one.

      I guess when you think about it, we’ve always been competing. Opposite sides of the spectrum. She was tall and tan with long brown hair. I was mid-size to short and had bright red hair. Of course, this meant that I had pale skin and a tendency to blush. Petunia was a muggle, I was a witch. She always had guys after her and was the most popular girl in the school – the one who knows everybody else’s secrets. I was more reserved, unless I was with my own friends. And the only guy that had ever asked me out was that asshole James Potter.

       Potter. Ugh – just thinking his name made my blood boil. The immature prat. The self obsessed, stupid, bullying toerag. Just so you know, he didn’t ask me out because he liked me. He asked me out because I’m just the sort of person that he likes to prey on. Not too confident, quiet and a little bit of the ‘goody-goody’ for him to pick on. I admit it, I don’t like to break rules, but that’s not the problem. The problem is that Potter is the furthest thing from a goody-goody on this planet. So of course him and his little ‘marauder’ mates decided that it would be just hilarious for Potter to start asking me out every two seconds - to embarrass me of course. 

        And I don’t just hate Potter because he’s an arrogant bastard who brings trouble with him like the plague. I hate him for the way he treats my friend, Severus. Severus was my best friend ever since I received my very first Hogwarts letter. He was the only other magical person I knew, and we would spend hours and hours that summer sitting on the grass at the park, talking about what Hogwarts would be like, talking about magic and what we wanted to become. He filled me in on all the things that I had missed out on, having been raised in a muggle – or non magical – family. He told me about broomsticks and Quidditch, about Hogwarts and its eccentric headmaster Dumbledore. He even taught me a few simple spells, like accio and lumos.

         We were best friends for first and second year, and then I started to grow up. I guess I just needed my own friends, and with him in Slytherin and me in Gryffindor, we started to move apart. He started hanging around with dodgy characters like Avery and Mulciber, and I made friends with Alice and Sierra. I guess it was just him being in Slytherin that got him mixed up with those guys – Severus is normally a pretty decent guy.

         Yeah, so Potter and his mates Sirius and Peter and Remus have always been pretty mean to Severus, but last year, it got worse. They would call him ‘Snivellous the Death Eater’ and missed no opportunity to humiliate him. Upside down with his underpants showing, if possible.

          But anyways, as I sat there at the window thinking about all these things, watching the rain, I was snapped back to reality by the harsh voice of Petunia. “Mum said I had to call you to dinner.” Her voice was dark, and she stressed the mum said. 

       I sighed. Of course Petunia would never do something for me of her own free will... “Ok, tell her I’m coming,” I replied. She immediately turned on her heel and slammed my bedroom door behind her. I shook any lingering thoughts of my hatred for James Potter from my head and ran down the stairs to dinner.

 ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

       “Lily. Hey Lily – wake up. Wake up Lily...Lily..... ......WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” In this indelicate manner, I was jerked from my deep sleep the next morning. My mother stood over me with a smile. “Good morning darling, I’m sorry about that. You have to get up. We’ve got to be at the station at nine and...oh good lord! You didn’t finish packing?????”

       “Umfghhhhhh...what?” I mumbled in my mildly unconscious state. 

       “Lily! You haven’t even got everything in your trunk yet! Hurry! Get up and finish packing, no breakfast until you have.” Mum left the room muttering wordlessly under her breath. I sat up blearily and surveyed my room. True to mum’s word, I had not finished packing. This was mostly due to my prolonged daydreaming/reminiscing session yesterday. Oops.

        I hastily shoved my clothes in my trunk along with the other books and odd objects lying around my room. I got dressed and shoved my wand into my pocket. Downstairs my mother was cooking bacon and eggs, a treat for us. She smiled at me and offered me a plate when she saw me dressed and packed. “That’s a good girl. Here, have a plate. I cooked a special breakfast for your last morning.” 

       I took the plate and sat down across the table from my father. His face was completely hidden behind a newspaper, but he lowered it and looked at me. “So, back to school” he said. “You excited?”

      “Very,” I replied with a smile. “I absolutely cannot wait to see Alice and Sierra again.” Dad rolled his eyes. 

       “You’ve been sending owls to them all summer. What else could you possibly have to say to them?” I rolled my eyes right back at him. Silly dad, he just doesn’t understand best friends. After breakfast Dad carried my trunk down from my room and crammed it into the back of our small blue car. Mum insisted on coming to the station with us, but Petunia simply stalked away from the table. “Bye...” I called after her, getting a slamming door in reply.

       My mother gave me a sad smile and shrugged. “I guess she’s still jealous hon. Don’t worry, she really does love you. You’ll see someday.” I highly doubted this, but once in the car I pulled my mind away from my sister and focused on the buildings flashing by on the way to Kings Cross Station. I couldn’t wait for my last year of school. I couldn’t wait to see my friends, to see the school, to go back and make new memories. I was even excited for what we would learn that year, however lame and nerdy that sounded. The only thing that put a slight damper on my excitement was dealing with Potter. How the boy ever managed to achieve head boy was beyond me. And worst of all, who do you think was head girl? Me. The girl who’s life he made a living hell for the past few years. I could barely find it in myself to be excited when I got the letter. I was honoured to be head girl, of course, but with James Potter? Really, _why_?

       My mum started to tear up as we got out of the car at the station. My Dad teasingly laughed at her and gave me a hug. “I love you Lily,” he said, “have a great last year of school.”

       “I will Dad.”

       “Oh and Lily?” He said, as my mum pulled me into her arms, sniffling.

       “Yeah Dad?” I said

       “Stay safe” he said, with a mock – serious look on his face. He knows that I am the last person that would ever do anything illegal or risqué.

       “I will Dad” I grinned at him over my mum’s shoulder. She sniffs one last time and then releases me.

       “I love you. Have a great year, study hard, and don’t do anything risky. Catch the right train, don’t lose your ticket, don’t....” She rattled off her usual list of warnings and encouragements, and I started to laugh.

       “Mum, I’ll be good, I promise. Now I have to go or I will miss the train. And how could I catch the wrong train? There’s only one Hogwarts express! Now goodbye, I love you both!” I blew kisses to both of them and hurried off, pushing my trunk in a trolley, with my tawny owl Sally in a cage balanced precariously on top of my trunk. I got quite a few strange looks, but I was used to it after six years. In fact I sort of relished the fact that I had this whole special world that they didn’t have. Me, normal, plain me, had something special. It was not something that I felt particularly often, being fairly plain.

       “Lily! Oi, Lily!” Sierra was practically running towards me, her cart hurtling along in front of her. She looked beautiful, of course, tanned from her summer in Italy.       

       “Sierra!” How are you?"

       “I’m great, I missed you!” She hugged me tightly and we both looked around us. “Where’s Alice?” I asked.

      “She’s coming, she’s coming.” True to Sierra’s word, Alice walked up to us just then. She hugged us both and then we all looked at each other.

      “Ready for another year?” asked Sierra.

      “You bet I am!” I replied. Little did any of us know how much our lives were going to change this year. 


	2. Back to Hogwarts

 

**Author's notes: So here's the second chapter, and we finally get to meet some interesting people. I'm quite enjoying writing this :) Please review and tell me what you like, what you don't like, what you want to happen, or you can even tell me about what you did yesterday. Love you guys, and you all know that anything rowling-ish belongs to her, not me.**                

 “Oh.My.God.” Sierra’s voice was stunned as she stared open-mouthed through their carriage window at the people milling around on the platform. 

I peered around her head to try and see what she was looking at. “What is it? Where?” I asked, wondering what had my usually talkative friend speechless.

“Look at Sirius Black! Merlin he’s _fiiiine_ ,” she drawled. Alice and I sighed. I sat back down and leant against the seat. Of course: it was just Sierra being her boy-crazy self. 

“Sierra don’t you think you could do a bit better than one of the marauders?” I asked her. “Besides, he’s not even really _that_ good looking.” I shook my head in shame. 

“Lily I know you don’t like them but really, they’re not that bad. You’re just prejudiced. And you haven’t seen him yet. C’mere, look. He’s grown up. He’s sexy now. I’m serious!” Sierra waved her hand at me, trying to get me to come and look out the window.

I reluctantly leaned over and peered through the glass, at the same time reminding Sierra of _why_ I was prejudiced. Doesn’t being stalked and teased for three years count as a reason to hate somebody’s guts?  Looking through the sooty glass I saw the familiar group of four boys, talking and laughing just outside our window. I distinguished the long, dark hair belonging to Sirius Black, James Potters best mate of all time and main accomplice in their immature pranking crimes. Skimming my eyes up and down his body I did have to agree with Sierra. “He’s fairly good looking now, yes Sierra.”

“Fairly good looking? He’s _damn fine!_ ” Sierra sounded indignant. I grinned at her. Out of the three of us, she had always been the most boy-orientated, although that could have been a result of her own stunning good looks. She was constantly going out with some boy, or if not, she was infatuated with another. I just sincerely hoped that Sirius was not going to be her next choice. Alice was too shy to be much involved in the dating world, and me, well I was just too _me._ Too red-haired, too pale, too reserved and insecure to want a boyfriend. Or attract one. 

                I think there was one point in second year where I had had a pre-teen crush on Severus. That’s embarrassing to recall though, he’s just my mate now, although he has always been nicer to me than he is to any of my mates. 

Sierra started pushing my head towards the window again, demanding that I agree that Sirius was ‘damn fine’. As she did so, another familiar face caught my eye. Although I would have loved for it not to be so familiar. James _freaking_ Potter. He too had changed over the summer. He looked taller and, well, he looked different. I’m not going to try to lie; Potter is one of the best looking guys at Hogwarts. He had always been. But, I don’t know, he just looked more – grown up – or something now. His dark hair was messier than ever, and I guess that made him look ‘rugged’. But then again, he would always be Potter, he would always be stuck up no matter how handsome he was. And why was I still looking out that window anyways? 

“Alright alright he’s ‘fine’!” I said, pushing back from the window, back against Sierra’s hand that was keeping me fixed there. 

“That’s not good enough. You have to say it properly. Repeat after me: Sirius Black is damn fine.”

“Sirius Black is damn fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. 

“There we go!” giggled Sierra, clapping her hands with joy. Seriously, sometimes I wondered why I even was mates with this girl. Alice met my eyes and I could tell she was thinking the same thing. Just then the last whistle went and everyone still on the platform said a hurried goodbye to their loved ones and got on the train. We were on our way, back to Hogwarts, back to my second home. 

The door to our carriage slid open a few minutes after we started moving. I was delighted to see that it was Sev. He nodded to Alice and Sierra, and then his eyes rested on me. “Hey Lily,” He said in his deep way, “Can I join you?” 

“Sure Sev, come on in.” Behind Severus’s back, Sierra groaned silently. I glared at her. “So how are you Sev? Do anything interesting over the holidays?” I asked.

“No, not really,” He muttered, sitting down next to me, his too-big dark robes scrunching up behind him. He put a casual arm around me. “What about you?”

“Nah, nothing much. I spent most of the summer avoiding Petunia.” Severus’s face creased with disgust, like he had just bitten into a lemon. 

“Ugh. Stupid girl. How could she be related to you Lily? She’s such an ugly bitch.” Sev knew my sister from the days when she would spy on us during the summers we spent together. That was before his family moved house in my third year. I guess what Sev said was a backhanded compliment to me, but it sort of hurt my feelings when he spoke that way about my sister. Sure, she may be a pretentious cow, but that doesn’t give him the right to say that. I didn’t know why I felt so protective, god knows Petunia deserved it. But Sev didn’t have to be so _mean._ I ignored it though, as I usually did with Severus’s slightly too-nasty comments, knowing from experience that if I called him up on it, it would just start an argument and end with him ignoring me for days.

I changed the topic, prattling on about how exciting it was to be going back to Hogwarts, about the latest failed attempt to break into Gringotts. Hell, I would have talked about the infestation of pixies in North Africa if I knew it wouldn’t have sparked conflict. That is, of course, if there _was_ an infestation of pixies in North Africa.

 We talked for a long time, Sev keeping his arm around me the whole time. I began to wonder if that was normal. He’d never had any problem with touching me or anything, I mean we may not be _best_ mates anymore, but we’re still mates. But this was different. His arm was strangely possessive, and unlike the times he’d touched me before, this time he wasn’t letting go. It started to feel weird and uncomfortable, heavens knows why. I asked myself why this was bothering me. It wasn’t like he was groping me, or even hitting on me! It was just Sev being Sev. At least that’s what I told myself.

The door slid open again, just as the conversation began to wane, and Potter stuck his head around the door. 

“Hey Lily,” he said, not bothering to greet the others in the room. “Come with me to an abandoned carriage?” I glared at him, and could feel Severus doing the same beside me. 

“No I most certainly will not. Go away Potter, nobody wants you here.” Potter clutched his heart in a wounded manner, dramatically sighing. 

“That hurts Lily,” He moaned pathetically. Straightening up, he said, “but seriously, we have to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you Potter.” Potter grinned. “What?” I asked, wondering why he was all of a sudden looking so smug. “What is it?” 

“You forgot, didn’t you?” 

“Forgot _what?_ ” I was getting really angry now, and his stupid laughing just made it worse. 

“My dear Lily, you just forgot that we have to go to the head’s carriage to prepare for talking to the prefects. We’re already five minutes late, we won’t have long to discuss what we’re doing before they show up.” I moaned and put my head in my hands. Of all things, I just _had_ to go and forget that. And of course, with my horrible luck, Potter had to remind me. I could tell he was never going to let me live this one down by the way he was grinning. Severus stood with me, offering to come with me if I wanted him to.

“Sorry Sinvelly,” James said harshly, “just head students and prefects. So sorry.” It was clear as day that he wasn’t sorry at all. He waited for me to walk out the door, glaring at him as I passed. Then he followed me down the corridor to the heads corridor. “Woah Lily, slow down,” he said as I stalked along. I didn’t really feel like slowing down, I was too pissed at Potter to care. Not that it was really a problem for him, his long legs covered the distance easily, while I tired myself out by practically running to the heads carriage. 

When I reached the door that had the little gold letters spelling “Prefects Carriage”, I walked in and slid the door shut behind me. I didn’t really care that this meant that I had just shut Potter out, I just needed a few seconds to collect myself, get over the embarrassment of forgetting my head duties. How could I have? I had been too busy being made uncomfortable by Severus to remember that I had the perfect escape. Stupid, stupid me. I drew in deep breaths, looking in a small mirror and seeing that I was bright red from embarrassment. _Get yourself together, Evans,_ I told myself over and over, and by the time Potter walked in, I was ready to do this. I could do this, Dumbledore had trusted me to by picking me, and I wasn’t going to let our headmaster down.

Potter walked in the door leisurely and plonked himself down on a chair. The prefects carriage was a really interesting room, with a round table in the centre, soft chairs around it and photos on the sides of the carriage of previous heads smiling and laughing out at the next unfortunate victims. It was painted deep blue and gold. Potter sat in one of the large chairs that were reserved for the heads. The seventh year prefects sat around the table, and the sixth year prefects sat on seats along the edges of the carriage. I sat down next to Potter and pulled a folder out of my bag. Thankfully I had thought out the basic things that we needed to tell the prefects. As soon as I got my letter saying I was head girl and Potter head boy, I had known that Potter wouldn’t be doing anything. So I had prepared everything.

“What’s that?” Potter asked, looking over my shoulder to see what was in the folder. 

“Its work Potter, not that you would know what that is.” Potter stuck his tongue out at me, and I rolled my eyes at him. “You are _so_ immature.” 

“You are _so_ mean. I didn’t even do anything to you!” 

“Just shut up Potter. So who’s prefects this year?” I tried to get him to start working. 

“I dunno, why does that matter?” 

I groaned. I could see a long year ahead. Potter was hopeless.

“I’m kidding Lil, I’m kidding. Umm...”he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his robes. “Oh look, your friend Alice made prefect! Um let’s see...who are all those people? I mean, I know Valerie Hooch from quidditch, she’s nice enough. A top mate, that girl. Oh and Longbottom, he was in my transfiguration class.  Oh he’ll be happy...” He trailed off. 

“Why will he be happy?” I asked, curious. 

“Uhhh...no reason...” said Potter, suddenly refusing to meet my eye. “So we have a Hogsmeade visit in two weeks. Go with me?”

“I’d rather kiss the giant squid.”

And that was when the prefects began to file in for the first prefect meeting. 

                

 


	3. Witches and Wizards and Magical Feasts

  
**Author’s notes: Hey guys! I know this chapter took longer than usual because of exams, but thank God for holidays, and now it’s finally here. I personally like this chapter, and just for you LiteralStar, there’s some Remus in there : ) You all know how much I love reviews, so please read, review, and rant. Much love, Sunnysky.**   


 

Hogwarts really never failed. Every year, I was awed all over again by the great hall’s ceiling, decorations, and mostly by the food. The four wood tables ran smoothly down the long hall, with each house’s decorations hanging over them.

 I sat down with Sierra and Alice beneath the red and golden banner, tired out from the mildly chaotic prefects meeting. It had started out ok, once I finally got everyone to shut up, but then there were the stupid sixth year prefects, new to the idea, who thought that they owned the world now just because of their shiny little badges. I wasn’t really that bad as a sixth year was I? They had started cracking jokes about taking points off for random things, like wearing pink or listening to the song ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’. I tried to tell them that was entirely inappropriate, and started going over the points system, but they were talking too loudly. 

“Oi, shut up guys!” Potter had yelled, and I couldn’t believe it, but everyone had stopped talking. I guess being good looking and the quidditch captain gets you a certain amount of power. “Now guys, I know that that song should be outlawed, and everyone who listens to it sentenced to a gory execution, but unfortunately, Dumbledore might just execute _you_ if he finds you taking points off for stupid things. Believe me, I would know.” Everyone laughed at that, but nodded. “But seriously guys, just don’t do anything stupid. You’ll be demoted as prefect or, more likely, Lily will eat you.”

I had whacked him over the head for that with my folder. The prat. Just because he had the prefects eating out of his hand didn’t mean he could insult me. “See?” He had said. “She’s a violent one. Watch yourselves.”

I _hate_ him.

Ignoring his crap, I added, “And seventh year prefects can take points off the sixth year prefects, so don’t think you guys are above the law.”

“Yeah,” said Potter, “and Evans and I can take points off the lot of you. So I guess we _are_ above the law,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah you wish. Dumbledore, remember?” 

“Pah, Dumbledore _loves_ me. We’re tight.”

Really, I thought that boy needed to be taken down a few pegs. He thought he owned the bloody school or something. I would _love_ for someone to teach him a lesson. 

All that to say; the prefects meeting was utterly exhausting. So it was a relief now to sit down in the great hall and lay my head on Alice’s shoulder. 

“Tired are we?” She asked jokingly. She had been in the prefects meeting of course, and seen how frustrated I was.

“I hate Potter,” was all I would say. I watched the sorting vaguely through flickering eyelids. I couldn’t believe that it had been seven years now. Seven years since I was standing there, wondering, as all first years do, where I would end up. Wondering what house would become my home. Severus had been cross when I was sorted into Gryffindor, because for some reason he seemed to know for sure that he was going to be in Slytherin. At the time, I was angry at the old hat for putting me in a house away from my only friend, but it’s amazing the way seven years changes you. I don’t think I could stand not being in Gryffindor, not being able to sit by our warm common room fire and look out of the tower window in our dorm and think. I would never have got to know Alice or Sierra either, and then I’d be a lonely old hag. Sort of. 

After the sorting, Dumbledore stood. His beard was slowly getting longer every year, I noticed. Whiter, too. He was starting to look old, not just ageing. He pushed his half-moon glasses up his nose, and gazed out at the room full of children. 

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I trust that you have all had a wonderful summer, and had plenty of time to empty your minds, so that we can fill them again. Firstly, I’d simply like to remind you, as usual, that Filch, our caretaker, does not wish you to besmirch our school. This includes stinkbombs, fireworks, and even pixies.”

 As he said this, he looked pointedly towards the end of the Gryffindor table, where Potter, Lupin, Pettigrew and Black sat laughing maniacally. There had been a certain...incident...last year involving a large amount of pixies being set loose in the trophy room, smashing all the glass cases, leaving Filch fuming and the four Marauders in detention every night for two weeks. And one of _these_ lunatics was head boy. Really, what was the world coming to? Dumbledore must be getting older than I thought. 

“I’d like to introduce you to some new members of staff this year,” Dumbledore continued. “This is Professor Fernleaf, your new herbology teacher, and Professor Slughorn, your Potions master. Please make them proud of you; as they are both experts in their subjects.” Professor Slughorn, I noted, looked like a remarkably happy walrus, with a giant stomach, no neck and a moustache over his grinning mouth. I certainly hoped he was a good teacher, because Potions is my best subject, and I needed that ‘O’ if I wanted to become a Potions teacher myself.

“And children, I must state again that, however safe Hogwarts is, there are things going on in the world that you would be foolish to disregard.” A hush fell over the room, as people recognised what Dumbledore was referring to. “The dark lord Voldemort” – here people flinched – “is still at large. He is unlikely to attack the school, but that does not mean that you should assume that you are completely safe. Mail will be regulated, Hogsmeade visits monitored and if any student is found to be practising dark magic in this school, I will not hesitate to expel them.” Dumbledore’s face was totally serious, as was every face staring back at him. First years had shocked looks on their faces, as no one but Dumbledore referred to You Know Who as Voldemort.” 

“Now, I do apologise for having kept you so long from your dinner. Tuck in!” Dumbledore’s countenance changed from serious to exuberant in a second, leaving people to slowly digest the sombre news, discuss it with the person next to them, then finally enjoy the stunning meal that appeared suddenly. 

I freaking _loved_ Hogwarts food. Other than a surprise visit from You Know Who and his death eaters, I couldn’t think of anything that could spoil my joy at eating the scrumptious dinner before me. 

Actually, scratch that last.

It came as little to no surprise to me that the first words out of Potter’s mouth as he squeezed in between me and Alice were “Why hello Lily Evans. You look simply stunning tonight! Would you care to join me for dinner?” 

I didn’t even bother to answer him, simply giving him one of my best death stares and looking away. 

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad looking,” he joked. Seriously, could he be any _more_ full of himself?

“Actually Potter, you are. And it’s not simply your looks, dear me no! It’s your stench. It’s putting me off my food.”

Burn, Potter, burn.    

I left him with that amazing, though slightly immature, comeback, and stalked away from the table. I was actually surprisingly angry at him. His teasing had ruined my elation at being back at my favourite place in the whole world. My supper was ruined, now all I could do was go back to the common room and sulk. I didn’t even have anything to study. 

I guess it comes as no shock then, that when James walked into the common room I blew my top at him. 

“Stop following me! James Potter, when are you going to realise that I don’t like you? I don’t find your teasing funny, I don’t think that you and your mates are the best thing since sliced bread, and most of all I don’t find the way you treat me at all fair. You are the most stuck up, immature _prat_ that I have ever had the _dis_ pleasure of knowing!”

You’d think that after that, a bloke would give in. Cut me some slack from his apparent vendetta to make my life hell. Maybe even say sorry? 

Nope. No luck there. Potter, it would seem, cannot take a hint, even if it danced in front of him wearing only Professor McGonagall’s favourite pointy hat. He listened to my rage with a passive face, tipped his head to the side and said lightly,

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

Honestly, I wanted to kill him. I settled for a simple jelly-legs jinx, but I guess that still must have been fairly effective because Sierra came into the seventh year girls dormitory absolutely shaking with laughter.

“Hey Lil, Potter’s down in the common room with a bad case of the after-effects of a strong jelly-legs jinx. You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that would you?”

I simply glared at her. I felt no sympathy towards the prat. “Nothing whatsoever,” I said in my most pious voice. “Well, maybe a little, but really, the idiot boy was simply _begging_ for it. Who am I to deny someone what’s coming to them?” Sierra started laughing again, but finally straightened up.

“Granted Lil, it’s an impressive demonstration of your hexing abilities, but cut the boy some slack. He can barely walk. That jinx must have been pretty powerful.”

Cut the boy some slack? Cut him some _slack?_ He has been practically _stalking_ me for three years, driving me up the wall with his stupid pranks, and she wants _me_ to cut _him_ some slack? 

Sometimes I loved Sierra. Sometimes I wanted to put her head through the wall.

Perhaps, I thought, I should curb that particular sadistic desire, and focus on how I’m going to kill James Potter.

Yes, that sounded nice.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The next morning, I got up early as usual. The sunrise from the tower is always stunning, but there’s one little niche in the common room that gives you the best view, you can see straight out across the quidditch pitch to the treetops of the forbidden forest, and as the sun rises over the mountains in the distance it casts a glow over them that is some kind of combination of pink, red, orange and yellow. It looks – to be very cliché – almost magical. I was sneaking down to the common room quietly, hoping that no one would see me slip behind the curtain that takes you to the little windowsill that I like. Unfortunately, someone was already in the common room.

Thankfully, it wasn’t the person currently residing on the top of my people-to-feed-to-a-hippogriff list. It was Remus Lupin. I don’t know why, but Remus is the one of the marauders that I can stand the most. He’s quieter, cleverer and he’s probably the reason they don’t end up in deeper trouble than they already do. Sometimes I wonder why he chooses to have those three as his friends, but he’s never seemed to want to find people who are better behaved. 

He was sitting on a chair near the fire, simply staring into it. Its light flickered gently on the walls, because the sun hadn’t quite risen. He was staring into the fire, and he looked almost...sad.

“Hey Lupin,” I said softly.

He jumped about ten feet in the air. Spinning around suddenly he looked at me, his eyes darting from side to side.

“Lily, that was terrifying! How long have you been down here?” 

“Like, a second maybe? Oh don’t worry, I haven’t been here long. How come you’re up?”

“I uh,” he stuttered, “I – I couldn’t sleep.” Now that I looked at him, he did look tired. He had bags around his dark eyes, he looked pale and just sickly. Lupin did seem to get sick a lot, he spent hours in the hospital wing. 

“You think you’re catching something?” I asked, sitting down on a chair and watching him.

He seemed startled by that. “Yes...no...maybe. I dunno. I have to go.” And with that, he stood and walked up the stairs back to the boy’s dorm.

_Strange boy_ , I thought. _Must be the after effects of spending too much time around Potter and Black._  



	4. Try not to cry

**Author’s notes: So...chapter 4! If I enjoyed writing the other ones, this chapter was AWESOME! As in something actually happens. I really hope that this isn’t too cliché. I mean, obviously its cliché cause it’s fanfiction, but I hope that I put my own little spin on it that was enjoyable. For starkid girl, if you’re wondering how the title of the chapter is from AVPM/S, it’s a quote from ‘days of summer’ where it goes “I will try, not to cry, no one needs to say goodbye”. And the tonks cameo is in there on my sister’s request, I know it’s not canon to have her there and that the times don’t match up blah blah blah, but I** _did_ say that it wasn’t completely canon, so I can do what  I want. Happy reading, please do review :)  


“Hey James, get a look at this!” Sirius Black shouted across the dining hall at dinner the next day. 

“What?” Potter yelled back, paying no attention to the teachers looking disapprovingly down their noses at him. 

“Come get a look at this kid! She’s totally awesome!” A crowd had begun to form around Sirius and the object of his interest, a small first year girl.

Okay...a small first year girl with a beak? That was a little strange, I’d admit. I looked over to where Potter had now joined Sirius and was grinning in awe. 

“What’s your name?” he asked her. She muttered something unintelligible, blushing quite literally, to the roots of her hair. As in, her entire face and hair turned redder than _my_ fiery locks. Poor girl, she was probably terrified by the tall, loud head boy talking to her. I walked over to try and help her out. By the time I reached her though, she had turned back to her normal colour and was looking up at Potter, smiling.

“I’m Tonks,” she said. 

“Hi Tonks,” Potter replied, “I’m James. How do you do that thing with your face?” Really Potter? I thought; ‘That thing with your face?’ Very tactful.

Tonks didn’t seem that fussed however, and just grinned at Potter. “I dunno. But it’s called being a ‘metamorphmagus’. People seem to find it entertaining,” she said, looking over at her two friends who were laughing like a pair of lunatics.

“She – Sh – She can do a pigs snout!” giggled one of the two girls. “Do the pigs snout again!”

On cue, Tonks’ face transformed into a highly realistic snout of a pig. 

“I think it’s _spiffing_ , _”_ said Potter, sounding impressed. I rolled my eyes and sat back down at the table. Potter saw me and smiled. “Isn’t she something?” He asked, turning his head away from Tonks and looking down at me.

I started. He didn’t seem even the slightest bit angry. Not that I minded of course, but I _had_ yelled at him fairly vehemently last night, then hexed the living daylights out of his legs. I had kind of expected him to be at least a littlebit pissed at me. I had to admit that staying calm was an act that I would not have graced _him_ with. I was too surprised to even come back with a stinging retort, and had muttered “yeah, she is” before I even knew what I was saying.

Now it was his turn to be surprised. His eyes widened, but to his credit he didn’t say any of the prattish things that I expected. Instead of crowing about how I had finally agreed with him, he sat down next to me and asked me to pass him the pies. I was glad, of course, that he was taking a break from making fun of me. Goodness knows I needed it. I was already exhausted from transfiguration, and McGonagall had given us piles of homework, which meant that I couldn’t even enjoy my free period before dinner.

I was still suspicious though, and didn’t speak a word to him all through the meal, though he remained resolutely seated next to me at the table. I looked down at my plate until I heard the post arriving. 

Owls streamed across the hall, dropping parcels into their owners laps, then flying on to the owlery. I didn’t expect anything which meant that I jumped with surprise when a neatly folded and sealed letter dropped in my lap. Confused, I opened it and read the contents.

_Dear Miss Evans_  
_It is with great regret that I inform you that yesterday evening your parents were admitted to St Mungo’s Hospital. They have suffered severe injuries, which may prove fatal. It is evident that these injuries were caused by magic, however the dark wizard who cast these spells is not yet known. Dumbledore has been advised and will arrange for you to visit St Mungos as soon as is possible. You have the ministry’s condolences._  
_Sincerely, Agatha Huges,_  
_Ministry of Magic  
_

I couldn’t breathe. I honestly couldn’t, and all of a sudden it was like I couldn’t see anything but my parents lying hurt in a hospital bed. I put my head down on the table, trying to control my breathing, trying anything to calm myself, but I couldn’t. It _couldn’t_ be ok. Someone had gone after my parents, had hurt my parents and I didn’t even know why. Who would do something like that? My parents had no connection whatsoever to the magical world. Who would go after them? _Why?_ I kept asking myself. Why, why, why, why...

I didn’t realise that I was sobbing until Potter’s voice broke through the haze of pain and tears. He was shaking me, I registered vaguely, saying my name over and over and asking me what was wrong. I don’t know what made me do it, but I turned my head into his shoulder, hiding from the people who were starting to stare. His arm slipped hesitantly around my back, and then before I knew it he had lifted me clean off the seat and was walking sturdily towards the doors, up the staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. 

He set me down on the couch, or at least tried to, but I couldn’t seem to uncurl myself from the position I was in his arms. In fact, I pulled my knees up tighter to my chest, and my fingers tightened their hold in his shirt. I didn’t want to open my eyes, because I knew that if I did I’d have to face the reality that this world was real, that my parents were possibly dying, and that I was currently sobbing in the arms of the boy that I hated. 

Said boy sat down on the couch, me still curled up against him. I turned so that I was sitting across his legs, my face still buried in his chest, tears streaming quietly into his shirt. He sat there and stroked my hair gently, murmuring “hey, you’re ok,” over and over. Finally though, my tears ran out, and I sat shuddering silently. 

“Lily?” he said softly, “wanna tell me what’s wrong?” I shook my head resolutely. It was already starting to sink in how much of a mess I’d made, and how embarrassing this was. But the words from the letter flew through my mind again. _“Severe injuries...may prove fatal”._ I began to shake violently. Potter’s arms came around me, his hand moving up and down my arm. “Hey, Lily, calm down! Shhh, it’s ok, it’s ok.” His strong, steady voice finally made me stop shaking and I lay limply against him. He didn’t try to say anything then, he simply continued his gentle strokes up and down my arm and waited for me to explain.

I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I didn’t even know if I still had the capability. So I simply handed him the letter, which I had been holding as tightly in my left hand as I was clutching James’ shirt in the other. He remained silent as he read, but I felt his body tense, and his hand stopped its soothing movements on my arm. He put the letter down, and I looked up at him, wondering if he was going to say anything.  

He remained silent for a long while, then his arms moved to wrap tightly around me as he hugged me fiercely. “I’m so sorry Lil. I’m so, _so_ sorry.” I didn’t allow my mind to wonder about why this was so comforting, about why Potter was being so nice. I simply shut off my brain and lost myself in the gentle, safe feel of his embrace. I was exhausted from all the crying and so I stayed rested against his chest, curled into a ball with my hand grasping his shirt tightly up until the moment I fell asleep. 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The next morning I woke slowly. My dreams had been fitful, full of light and dark, extreme sorrow and the sense that something was very wrong. When I woke, my first thought was that I was so glad that it was all just a dream. My second was the realisation that it wasn’t. I tried to fall back asleep, tried to escape reality, but I couldn’t. I lay there for almost an hour, eyes shut, half asleep and tried to convince myself that it wasn’t real and that when I opened my eyes the nightmare would go away. Finally I opened my eyes just a crack. I was lying on my own bed, which all of a sudden seemed strange considering...

Oh damn. 

...Considering that last night I had fallen asleep in the arms of the boy who despised me as much as I despised him. Great. Just great. Now Potter knew my problems. He’d have so much more ability to hurt me. But...he had been unnervingly kind to me last night, and he had gotten me out of the great hall before I completely made a fool of myself. And he had comforted me...and held me...and in a strange way, he’d made it feel better. Maybe, just maybe, the boy had a shred of decency in him. I had to admit, I at least owed him a thank you for last night. And an apology for crying all over him. That’s something no guy should have to experience, and he had taken it in his stride. 

I showered and got dressed slowly into my uniform. I couldn’t seem to do anything, and my steps were slow and heavy. I felt numb, like my insides were made of rocks. Sierra walked into the dorm and, seeing I was up, looked at me uncertainly.

“Hey Lil,” she finally said. “I hope you aren’t angry, but Potter told us what happened to...uh...he told us what happened. Please don’t be mad at him, we came up looking for you after dinner and you were asleep and we were worried cause you had tears all down your face and cause you were hugging Potter and hey, that’s not something you would do unless something were really wrong.” She was rambling now, I noted emotionlessly. “So he kinda told us what had happened and asked if could we take you up to your bed and then he walked out of the common room which now that I think about it is kind of strange because it was after curfew but he said something about needing to go see the moon and...I think you shouldn’t be angry” she finished abruptly. 

“What time is it?” I asked. 

“Wait,” Sierra said, startled. “You’re not mad at Potter?” She seemed incredibly surprised.

“No. No I’m not, not for today at least.” My voice sounded monotone even to me. “James was incredibly nice yesterday, why should I be mad? But what’s the time?” 

Sierra disregarded my question, gaping at me. “You called him James! And you didn’t get mad. Are you ok?” I slumped down on my bed, not feeling like I could stand any longer. 

“No, not really.” 

Sierra’s eyes immediately grew wide as she realised what she’d said. “Oh Lil, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course you’re not ok. Um...anyway the reason I’m here is to say that Dumbledore said you don’t have to go to classes today and that you should go to his office at lunchtime. Yeah. Um, I hope you’re ok by yourself, I have to go.”

“Ok.” I knew that Sierra was worried, but I couldn’t talk. Nothing made sense anymore, nothing registered. I just wanted to fall asleep and go back to the place in my head where at least the nightmares weren’t real. I didn’t even care that I was missing out on schoolwork, or that Sierra was probably drawing conclusions about me and James that weren’t even true. I didn’t care. I _couldn’t_ care. It hurt too much. 

  



	5. A Filthy Little Mudblood Like Her

  
**Authors Notes: Sorry this took so long, I really don’t have an excuse. I’m not too sure what I think about this chapter, so please tell me how you like it. Without further ado...Chapter 5!**   


I blinked, consciousness creeping upon me as slowly as the golden afternoon sun crept in through the tower window. I lay in my room, on top of my sheets, still in my uniform. It was creased from being slept on, and I knew my hair must be a complete nightmare. Groggily I dragged myself off the bed and into the loo. I stared blearily at the face that looked back at me from the mirror. My eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, my wavy red hair hung limp and straggly. My nose was running. I was, to put it kindly, a mess. And I had...precisely eleven minutes before I had to see Dumbledore.

Crap.

Crapcrapcrapcrap _crap._

I washed my face, put my hair up in a tight bun and tried as hard as I could to get the creases out of my uniform. After hastily tying my shoelaces and putting on my robes, I ran down the stairs, out of the common room, through corridors and up staircases until I made it to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore’s office. Being head girl came with its benefits, I guess, because I knew not only _where_ Dumbledore’s office was, but the password as well. 

“Raspberry tarts,” I panted breathlessly to the gargoyle. It swivelled, moved, and suddenly I was looking at the portrait-covered walls of the headmaster’s office. Dumbledore was sitting in a cushioned chair next to a fireplace, his piercing blue eyes looking through half-moon glasses at a large book laid out on a coffee table. It was what looked like an oversized photo album, but there were lines drawn between the faces, with arrows and symbols and words scribbled in around the moving pictures. He was tracing his old finger over the lines, muttering obscurely to himself.

 “Black...black. Hmmm....but if he was her...hmmm...It just doesn’t match up. If she...”

Don’t get me wrong, I practically worship Dumbledore. He’s incredible. He’s the only man that You Know Who is afraid of, he is uncannily intuitive, but he’s also completely and utterly insane. Like, off his rocker, loony, bonkers, many, _many_ screws loose. Whatever you want to call it, he is a madman. I suppose that could be why he’s so amazing, because he is an original. He has the ability to move from joking to serious so fast it makes your head spin. He’s a weird one.

It took him a long time to notice me standing there in his doorway, unsure if I should clear my throat, or speak, or do something to catch his attention. He did look up eventually, and regarded me closely.

“Lily.” He said finally. His voice was deep, sombre. 

“I’m sorry I’m late headmaster. I was-”

“-asleep, yes that’s fine,” he finished for me. “I was just looking over some old records of mine. Fascinating things, these.” I failed to see how Dumbledore’s ‘records’ could be fascinating, but I didn’t want to voice that, so I simply asked

“So, what exactly is that book Professor?” 

“It’s a family tree, of a sort. I’ve been keeping records of some of the oldest wizarding families, it’s incredible how they are all connected, disturbing sometimes, but incredible.”

“What do you mean by that sir?”

“There are only so many old pureblood families left in the world these days. In some cases, it is either die out, marry a muggle or marry your cousin. It’s not surprising the path that some muggle hating wizards have taken.” 

Um, ew. I struggled to understand sometimes the whole pureblood-is-the-only-way mentality. When I was younger, I thought that you were either a wizard, or you were a muggle. It turned out that you could be a ‘perfect pureblood,’ a ‘squib,’ a ‘pureblood with bad connections,’ a ‘half-blood’ or even, God forbid, a ‘mudblood’ like me. 

A Mudblood

In my first year I wouldn’t have known what that was. In my second year, I saw it in a library book. In my third year, I got called it myself.

I could clearly remember the day, me sitting in the library studying before the exams. I was sitting at a desk at the end of one long row of books, my head bent over; trying to ignore the boisterous talk of some older Slytherins at a long table a few metres away from me. I remember wondering why Madame Pince hadn’t shut them up yet. I was starting to get really frustrated, I mean, exams were _days_ away. I really, really needed to study. Especially transfiguration. That subject was my pet hate. The only reason I wasn’t coming last in my grade was the many hours I put in reading every transfiguration book in the library. So I looked up from my book “Transfiguration for the Modern-Day Wizard” and asked them “Could you please be quiet?”

They went quiet all right. For about one second, now that I think about it, probably due to shock that I had dared to speak to them. Then one of them, a girl, started to laugh. She looked crazy, wild. Her hair was pitch black, and her eyes were narrowed. I remember thinking that she could really do with a good once-over with a nail file. Or a bath. They all joined in, laughing like maniacs. The black-haired girl started to walk towards me.

“You, little girl, want _us_ to be quiet?”

I looked up bravely, trying to hide the fact that I was quivering inside. “Yeah.” The word came out as a squeak, and I could see the amusement in her dark eyes.

“Why?” She leaned over the desk, menacing. Looking at my book, she laughed. “Oh that’s right. You want to study!” The rest of the crowd laughed jeeringly. “Well if you’re so smart, why don’t you just _make_ me?” I was too scared to speak. The girl leaned in, spitting her words across the desk at me. “You think you’re so damn _sweet._ You know what I think? I think that you are a filthy, nerdy little girl, who is ruining....my....afternooon! Now leave me alone you dirty little _mudblood.”_

I will forever be grateful that Madam Pince had finally heard the ruckus, and came storming in at that moment.

“QUIET!” She bellowed. “This is a library! If you are not conducting yourself in an appropriate manner, get out. And Miss Black? Detention Monday evening, for using foul language in my library. Now OUT! GET OUT ALL OF YOU! NOW!” 

Afterwards, I remember how Sierra had ranted and raved when she heard what had happened. Alice had gone quiet, and given me a hug. I didn’t really understand at that point how insulting it was for the girl to have called me that. Dirty blood. Now I understood. As You-Know-Who had gained power, people at school had started to take up the Pure Blood flag. It was not at all unusual for me to be called the ‘Ginger Mudblood’ by some of Sev’s more...unsavoury friends. I generally tried to ignore it.

“Is everything alright Miss Evans?” Dumbledore’s voice woke me from my thoughts. 

“Oh...yes. Sorry sir. So why are you looking at the – uh – the records?” 

He marked his page with a long, blue ribbon, and closed the book. “To remember things,” he said vaguely, “I have some questions I need to answer.” I knew I wouldn’t get a more elaborate answer from him if I tried, Dumbledore never said more than what he wanted to say. 

“Miss Evans,” He spoke, “I have asked you here because of your parents. I am truly, truly sorry for what has happened to them. I have had word, however, that it is likely that they will survive, although whether there will be any permanent damage done is not certain. Am I to understand that you would wish to visit them in St Mungos?” 

Immediately, it felt as though my lungs had repaired themselves. I could think. I could breathe again. “You mean...they’re not going to die Professor?”

“No Lily, I do not believe that they will die.” I blinked, trying to adjust, the joy utterly and completely overwhelming. I don’t think I could bear it if my parents were killed, but if they had been killed by this, by someone from my world, it would have been worse. It would have been my fault. Because the only connection they have to his world is me. A pressure pressing down on me had been lifted. I couldn’t stop my smile.  

“Thank you Dumbledore.”

He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “Don’t thank me. Thank the St Mungos staff when you go to visit in two days. I hope you won’t be too devastated to miss transfiguration that day” I laughed. 

“Don’t worry sir. I think I’ll manage to keep my devastation to a minimum.”

“I’m glad. You may leave now Lily.”

I left Dumbledore’s office still smiling. Back in my dorm I found Sierra and Alice, who listened eagerly as I told them the good news. Sierra hugged me tightly, squealing. Alice smiled and said “I’m so glad.” When Sierra was done hugging me, she pulled back and looked at me questioningly. 

“So who did it?”

 I started, realising that I hadn’t even remembered to ask Dumbledore if he knew.

“I – I don’t know,” I answered, wondering why I hadn’t thought of this. “I guess they still haven’t found out.”

“Huh,” Sierra breathed, “that’s annoying.” Then she looked at me slyly. “So since you’re not about to kill yourself, can we talk about ‘James’ now?”

I _knew_ it. Now that my parents were out of the woods, of course Sierra felt it was ok to bombard me with questions about my emotional breakdown the other night. 

“I will have you know,” I said firmly, “That _nothing whatsoever_ happened between Potter and me. I was hysterical, he played the gentleman and got me away from the staring people. He let me cry. He gave me a hug.” Here Sierra’s eyebrows raised.

“A hug? You were sitting on his lap!”

“I was distraught! Yes, I admit it, I was sitting on his lap, but only because I thought that my parents were dead. Besides, if there is a moment where Potter isn’t a complete arse, why shouldn’t I take advantage of it?” I joked.

“Potter...or _James?”_  


I thumped her over the head with my pillow. I couldn’t find it in me to be angry at her. My parents weren’t going to die. I would deal with the rest later.


	6. The Potions Master

  
**Aaaaaaannnnd...*drum roll*...here it is! Chapter 6. I’ve had some fun, and I hope enjoy yourselves reading it. Shout out goes to my friend Amy who did ask to get a mention...so I hope you like this babe! Also thanks to my sister Rianna for letting me proofread to her and picking up some glaring mistakes. With no more ado..get reading people. Oh and by the way, you literally** _make my day_ when you review.  
 _It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything. For Merlins sake! I thought my parents were going to die! He knows that. He knows I still despise him. It doesn’t matter. He won’t make anything of it! Not. A. Thing.  
_

And yet, even after this incredibly well argued pep talk to myself, I couldn’t stop from turning bright red as Potter walked past in transfiguration, flashing his usual mischievous grin my way. What if the unthinkable had happened? What if – god forbid – Potter though I actually _liked_ him? That would be...horrible. And so, so incredibly awkward. I can’t deal with awkward. I blush and stammer and make a complete fool of myself. He _couldn’t_ think I liked him. He couldn’t!

“Lily?” My heart nearly stopped at the sound of his deep voice. 

“Merlin, Potter! Don’t DO that!”

He looked down at me quizzically, one eyebrow raised. 

“Do what?” I could feel my face heat. I looked away from him; his questioning eyes were making my brain seize up. 

My stomach clenched and my heart beat out a jagged rhythm in my chest. This was why I hated awkward. “Do _that._ Sneak up on me.”

“I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I just need a seat. All the others are taken. Do you mind?” 

If possible, I turned redder. Oh. He actually had a logical reason to talk to me. He wasn’t going to reveal that he wanted to marry me and move to France and open a bagel shop, and that this had been his dream forever and now I’d made it come true by showing him I loved him. He wasn’t going to start singing a romantic love song that he’d written after I’d cried all over him while he sat outside staring at the...moon. But hey, it’s not my fault for suspecting that. I mean, his mother’s French. And he _had_ said he had to go look at the moon.

“Uh...Lily?”

Damn. Zoned out again. “Yeah – yeah you can sit there – of course you can sit there, I mean, no one else is sitting there, there are no laws against it, I can’t stop you – well, without killing you that is. But that’s illegal. I’d get sent to Azkaban – I think I’d rather sit next to you than go to Azkaban.”

Have I mentioned that when I get awkward, I also ramble? The way that he was laughing now, I think that the scales were slowly tipping closer and closer to Azkaban. “I guess that’s good,” he chuckled, “I’m glad you think I’m a better option than a prison cell.”

Damn. I did _not_ mean it that way. Play it cool. “Yes, well you have a better sense of humour than the dementors, I suppose.”

I mentally kicked myself. Way to ‘play it cool’. You know, just go and complement him, why don’t I? I may as well just _snog_ him while I’m at it! I really needed to work on the whole ‘thinking before speaking’ thing. I determinedly looked away and started furiously copying down notes from what Professor McGonagall was saying. Potter, as usual, deemed notes unnecessary and occupied himself by transfiguring his quill into a miniature broomstick, making it hover over the desk and fly around like it was playing a game of quidditch right there on his desk. It was too bad that McGonagall couldn’t see, as we were sitting right at the back of the room. I would have turned him in myself, but it was _really_ advanced transfiguration he was doing. I didn’t think it would be fair. 

“That’s wrong, you know.” James was looking over my shoulder at my notes. “If you did that incantation and then flicked your wand left you’d end up with the teacup as a trout with a handle. And no gills. It’d die.”

“Well that’s what McGonagall just _said!_ ”

“No it’s not. She said ‘Perform the incantation with your wand pointed left, then swish in a circular motion towards the object that you are trying to transfigure.’ It’s a completely different thing.” He demonstrated the motion with his own wand. 

“Oh...well thanks _so_ much Potter,” I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I hated that he had to be smarter than me. The prat was already arrogant enough.

He ignored my sarcasm completely. “You’re welcome.” He smiled sweetly as he leant back in his chair and continued to fly his miniature broom in circles around the desk. I turned back to my notes and scribbled frantically until the end of class. As I stood and shoved my books in my bag, he looked me straight in the eye and said solemnly, “I heard about your parents. I’m glad they’re ok.” Stunned, I could only gawk at him. He stood, grabbed his rucksack and slung it over his back as he turned to his dark-haired friend. 

“Oi Sirius! Are you skiving off potions?” 

“Nah mate. I wanna meet this Slug-face guy. He looks like a laugh!” Pettigrew and Lupin joined them, and all four boys walked out of the room talking and laughing loudly. 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Professor Slughorn was a plump man who laughed a lot. His moustache seemed to have a complete mind of its own, quivering and twirling at random. He had a potbelly which bounced up and down as he laughed. Welcoming us into the dungeon, he told us to find our own seats. I pulled Sierra down into a chair next to me, not wanting to chance sitting next to Potter for another whole class. Slughorn grinned down at the class, his moustache twisting into a tight curl. 

“Good Afternoon class, good afternoon! In this class you will explore the world of potions at a much deeper level than you have in the past. You all know who I am, I hope, and my name is Professor Slughorn if you don’t remember. This is my second time teaching at a school of magic. In the past I have taught at the respected school of Bauxbatons. While there I worked to help produce some well known wizards such as Helene Dupont, the tremendously famous author of the revised version of the textbook you will be using “Potions for the Newt Student”.” 

“Today we’re going to be looking at a very advanced potion. This is how I like to start my years, because now you have something to aim for. By the end of this year, my most skilled students will have mastered potions at this level.” He gestured towards a potion in a large, black cauldron with a cover over it. He carefully lifted the cover off it, revealing the bubbling liquid inside. Every eye in the class looked over their desks curiously. He pointed at Alice, sitting in front of Sierra and I, with a boy who I think I had seen at the prefect meeting. Frank? Was that his name? “Lovely lady in the second row, come on up to the front.” She stood apprehensively and walked out. 

“Good, good. Now can you smell this potion for me?” Alice bent her head over the steaming, sickeningly pink potion and inhaled. “What do you smell?” 

Alice looked confused. “Lots of things...”

Slughorn grinned widely. “That’s perfectly normal; just describe some of them to me.”

“Well...,” Alice blushed. “I smell freshly ironed shirts...and the cool wind from around the quidditch pitch and...and I smell bubblegum.” It didn’t seem that bad to me, or that embarrassing. I wondered why she was blushing so much. 

“Good! Wonderful description! Now can you tell me what this potion is?” Alice’s eyes flicked to the class and back to Slughorn.

“Is it...something to do with love? A love potion?” 

“Yes! Class it is a love potion indeed. However this particular love potion is the most powerful one that you will find. Most potions like this wear off quickly and- ” (here Slughorn chuckled) “- and simply leave the poor victim feeling very, very stupid.” 

I noticed Sirius out of the corner of my eye. He was shaking with silent laughter, bent over his desk. Next to him Peter Pettigrew was looking indignant, his pinched face red as he motioned violently for Sirius to shut up. “It was _her_ fault!” He was whispering loudly. “How was I to know that there was love potion in the broccoli she gave me?”

Slughorn continued, “However this potion; called ‘amortentia’, is the most potent love potion known. Obviously it does not create love, simply a feeling of extreme infatuation. It is so intoxicating that people have hurt themselves through their desire to be with the one whom the potion makes them love. Now the most distinctive quality of this potion is its smell, which appeals directly to that which the drinker loves the most. Would anyone else like to have a turn?”

Alice, released, sat down next to Frank, her face still pink. Slughorn looked around the room waiting for someone to volunteer. Sirius, still chuckling, called out “Peter’d love to!” Peter glared at him.

Slughorn’s small eyes focussed on Sirius. “What was that?” 

“Peter wants to try!”

You know that typical and incredibly infuriating thing that teachers do where they say that you said one thing but you didn’t? And how they always think it’s completely hilarious? And it’s _so_ not? Well Slughorn obviously wasn’t any different, because he let out a big “Ahhh!,” Like he’d just realised what Sirius was saying. “ _You_ want to try? Well come on up boy, don’t be shy, give it a go.” Peter’s glare morphed into a sadistic grin. Sirius rolled his eyes, but stood up and sauntered up the front of the class. He winked out at some girl in the front row who giggled childishly. Lifting the lid he inhaled dramatically. His eyes closed in apparent ‘deep thought’ he muttered and stroked his stubbled chin. 

After a dramatic pause, he opened his eyes and put on a thick, false French accent. 

“Vel...vel, vel, vel. I smell une entranzing scent. Eet is a small bit like ze stinkbombs, a leetle bit like ‘Agrid and a leetle bit like une _femme_ who is vanting to kiss me very, very muchly.” The class laughed, but Slughorn’s moustache went flat. “Detention Mr Black. Monday.” Various people clapped for Sirius though, as he walked back to his seat, including James, who was laughing so hard he was bent over in his seat. Slughorn pointed at James and barked “You! Up next please.” 

James tried as hard as he could to keep his face straight as he walked up. I felt sort of sorry for Slughorn, I mean he’s coming from working at an classy european school where it’s not likely that he ever has to deal with pricks like Sirius. But I think as a teacher there is a certain amount of crap that you are just going to have to withstand. Especially in an afternoon class on Friday. He seemed to deal with it ok though, his smile was back by the time James reached the cauldron. 

Pink steam floated up from the potion, and I’ll be damned if almost every girl in the room didn’t hold her breath wondering what he was going to say. He leant over the potion and inhaled deeply. A small smile touched the side of his mouth and he sniffed one more time. 

Apparently the fangirls couldn’t control themselves anymore, because a mildly slutty blonde called out “What do you smell?”  

Really, teenagers today should try to control their hormones. Taking a look at the blonde I realised it was a girl Amy, a girl from my dorm. I never knew _she_ had a thing for Potter. Ruefully I realised that I should have guessed, I mean pretty much _every_ girl in the school likes either him or sirius, other than me.

Potter looked up with an entirely serious face and spoke. “I smell everything to do with...Lily Evans.”

_Bugger_ him. I was ready for Slughorn to give him detention too, but apparently Slughorn thought he was serious, because he just smiled sympathetically at James and sighed “ah, to be young and in love.”    

After the class I was whining about what he said to Sierra – Alice had rushed off to the dorm – when Sirius walked up next to us. 

“- I mean, what gives him the right to pick on me for so long? Why doesn’t he move on, make fun of someone else? It’s just not fair.” 

Sirius looked at me accusingly. “What gives you the right to accuse _him_ like that? You don’t even know who he _is_. Who’s not being fair?”

Then he walked away, his robes billowing a bit behind him.

 


	7. A Hidden Swimming Pool

  
**Author’s note: Chapter seven! The weird thing about this chapter was that I procrastinated all weekend, then got this completely random inspiration and wrote the whole thing all in one afternoon. But enough about that. You might wonder why she’s not going to visit her parents today, and I have picked up on the mistake there, but I’m going to change it so she’s going tomorrow. I though today needed to be different. Happy reading, and a big thanks to everyone who’s stuck it out this long.**   


I lay awake for hours that night, Sirius’ words playing around in my mind. I’d always just taken the fact that Potter and I were mortal enemies as something that just didn’t need to be explained. He was a jerk, wasn’t he? He was the kind of guy that leaves nice guys wondering what girls see in him, the kind of guy who dates girls for fun, then breaks their hearts. Merlin knows I wasn’t going to fall for that, and I never would want to. I’d always prided myself in the thought that I was the one girl who had always seen Potter for who he truly was, an immature, arrogant prick-faced player who liked to make me angry.

But for some reason I couldn’t get Sirius’s words out of my head. “ _You don’t even know who he is_ ”. I wondered over and over why the words hurt me so much. Finally I realised. It was because, if I really stopped to think about it, it was true. Potter and I had barely exchanged any sort of civil conversation, ever. Even during my mental breakdown I hadn’t spoken to him. How does that let one know who someone is?

I hated to admit it, god knows I did. But Sirius was right. I didn’t know who Potter was. Yes, he may have been arrogant, but he certainly hadn’t acted that way in Transfiguration. Yes, he may be a player, but he hadn’t really gone out with any of his fangirls since Erin in fifth year. It wasn’t really his fault that he was devastatingly handsome and they all drooled over him. 

Oh god. I just called James Potter handsome. 

But the more I thought about it, the more I had to tell myself to be honest, to accept the truth. The only reason I hated James Potter was because...well, I hated James Potter. My stubborn mind wouldn’t let me do anything else. Granted, he wasn’t perfect or anything, but he’d only asked me out once so far this year, that time in the Prefect’s carriage, and other than that he’d been more grown up. Less immature. 

I hated finding out I was wrong. So I lay awake in my canopied bed, listening to Sierra’s light snoring, sifting through my mind for a solution. Finally I gave up even trying to sleep, and slipped out of my covers, into my slippers, wrapped my red satin nightgown tightly around me and tiptoed my way out of the girl’s dorm. The tapping of my slippers on the marble steps of the staircase seemed unnaturally loud, and I could hear every one of my breaths as if the sound had been magnified a thousand times. 

Curling up in a chair next to the dying fire I pulled a red and gold throw rug around me. They say that there are two things that the human race never gets tired of watching, fire and running water. As I stared into the fire I watched the flickering tongues jump and twirl, as if they were dancing some mysterious dance of passion. And as I watched, I thought. 

If I were truly honest with myself, Potter was not the prat he used to be. However it did not follow that he was a nice person. How could I figure out how to treat him when I didn’t even know who he was? I morally didn’t feel it was right to hate him anymore, which royally pissed me off. However I didn’t think I could like him just yet after years of hatred. 

So I decided to prove them all wrong. I’d find out who James was. I’d be nice, but observant. Then I could either hate him in peace...or not. But how did one go about trying to figure out who someone was? My mind deterred a bit here, due to my sleep deprived state, and I thought a bit about what makes someone who they are and all that, but I really don’t remember much about that. My eyelids were starting to drift now that I had thought everything all out. I do remember thinking at some point that I should probably get up and go back to bed, but the chair I was sitting in was deep and soft, and I had curled myself up, made a mould for myself in it. Besides...going back to bed took effort...and...and...

I was fast asleep.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“Well, well, well. Little Miss Head Girl, I believe there are rules against this.” My eyes snapped open, and I saw Remus Lupin’s tired, but smiling face looking at me from the chair across the fireplace. 

Yawning, I smiled back. “Remus. We’ve got to stop meeting like this. And thanks for waking me up mate.”

“You’re welcome. I guess I figured you didn’t want the first years who think you’re their perfect role model to see the weaknesses of their revered leader.” 

I ‘hmm’-ed my consent and sat up, pulling my nightgown tighter around me. “What _is_ the time, by the way?”

Remus glanced at his wristwatch and raised one eyebrow. “About four in the morning.” He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment, and I realised just how bad he looked. I hadn’t seen him since that morning days ago. His eyes were bruised and red rimmed, his nails were dirty and his body language just screamed ‘exausted!’ 

“Still feeling ill?” I questioned, trying to keep my voice gentle. 

Remus sighed, letting out his breath in a long whistle. “Mostly tired. It’s been a rough few days.” Suddenly my problems with James didn’t seem so bad. Remus’ eyes were what worried me the most, the way that they stared blankly into space, and it seemed like he had experienced things that no one should. I was itching to ask what was wrong, but Remus looked right at me and he just seemed so vulnerable that I couldn’t bring myself to pry. Instead I gave him a sympathetic smile and stood up. 

“I should probably get to bed...” 

“Yeah.” He made no move to stand up himself, instead staring out at the now dimly lit sky out a small window. I leant over impulsively, wrapping my arms around Remus’ slumped shoulders in a short, but hopefully comforting, embrace. 

“I hope you’re ok.” He gave me a small smile.

“Thanks Lily. It means a lot.” 

I walked back up the staircase and fell asleep again in my own bed, sobered. The next morning I slept until about ten, which for an early riser like me was incredibly late. I found a note spell-o-taped to the foot of my bed, and I sat up slowly, the covers falling down, my hair drooping in front of my eyes. Brushing it away, I pulled the note off and forced my sleepy eyes to focus. 

_My Dearest Lily Evans,  
_ _Are you sure you’re alright? It really is unusual for you to sleep this late, it’s still nine o’clock and you’re still snoring away behind your canopy. (Yes, you do snore!) But anyways, my stomach is starting to eat itself, and Alice has already vanished somewhere. So it seems that I must accompany myself to breakfast. And if you wake up too late to eat, I’m not going to feel sorry for you because you abandoned me first. Anyway, if you want to find me, I’ll most likely be taking a walk to the great lake after breakfast, some people were talking about going swimming before the weather gets cool. Sleep tight, little minion, and dream of your one true love.  
_ _Love Sierra.  
_ _P.S. If you are so dense that you can’t figure out who that it, it’s_ James you nitwit.  


Don’t I have such loving, kind friends? 

And I do NOT snore. I’ve never heard myself snore, therefore I don’t.

I got dressed in casual clothes, enjoying the cool change from school robes. It had been a hot week, and looking out the window it seemed that summer was making a last ditch effort to survive. I don’t generally take too well to going swimming in the great lake, particularly with the whole giant squid thing, but I thought I might make an exception for today. Plus, I suspected that my so-called ‘true love’ would be there, so I could begin mission ‘Find out who James Potter is and prove Sirius Black wrong.” 

I dug through my trunk for a swimsuit, but the only one I could find was a bikini that my great aunt had given me. It was a very accurate shade of vomit, and had strange frills in all the wrong places.

Thank Merlin for magic. A few removal charms, and a colour change later, I deemed the swimsuit wearable. It wasn’t as modest as I’d like, but I made an exception for the increasingly hot day. Changing again, I put the swimsuit on underneath my clothes, then walked down to the great hall to see if there was any food left. There was, but only toast, so I took a piece and walked down the old path to the great lake as I ate. The beautiful day put me in a good mood, so I hummed to myself and sort of walk-skipped my way past the greenhouses and under the trees to the lake. 

The usually ominous lake seemed bright, shimmery and inviting today, and I could see Sierra and a few other people splashing and laughing a bit further around the edge. Spotting me, Sierra called out “Hey sleepyhead, finally decided to grace us with your presence did we?”

Laughing, I called back “Only because you practically _begged_ me to go swimming with you!” I walked up on the bank next to the nice part of the lake were they swam, not too deep but also not too shallow and weedy. Sierra splashed me with water and I yelped.

“Sierr-ra! What was that for?” But I pulled my tank top and shorts off and dove into the water, quickly getting back my own by pushing her underwater. 

“Now now girls, let’s calm down shall we,” Sirius laughed as he watched. I looked around to see who else was there. Amy was there with Sirius, James was there, Peter...where was Remus? 

“Where’s Remus?” I asked James, deciding it was time to start talking to him. James looked surprised at my sudden decision to converse, but he pointed over at the bank of the lake. 

“He didn’t want to get his dainty little self wet.” 

Remus was leaning against a tree, and looked up from the book he was reading. “Hey! I heard that!” He looked at me then. “Hullo Lily. Catch up on your sleep?”

“Yes thank you.” James looked quizzically between us. 

“When did you two see each other? Is something going on that I should know about?” He spoke the words seriously, but there was a spark in his eyes and a quirk to his mouth that let me know he was joking.

“Yes James,” I joked right back. “Remus and I have been meeting each other privately in the early hours of the morning for some time now. We were hoping to keep it a secret...but I guess you had to know sometime.” Remus laughed, and James’ quirked mouth shifted into a full blown smile. 

“I think that sort of behaviour deserves punishment, Evans.” 

If James had said something like that to be before last night, I would have glared at him and swam off as fast as I could. But now I stayed, and I let him have his joke, hoping that it would teach me my first lesson about James Potter. 

“Oh, and you’re the one to dish that out are you Potter?” 

“Actually, as your equal head student, I am.”

“Well, give it your best shot.” James swam towards me, and before I could react I felt his hands grasp my shoulders. For a moment I freaked out, screaming, and then my mouth filled with water as James’ strong arms pushed me under the cool dark water. I came up spluttering, coughing as I hacked and gagged trying to bring some air into my deprived lungs.

At first James laughed, but after a while he started to worry. “Lily? Oi Lily are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – I didn’t wanna...Merlin Lily are you alright?” He put his hand under my arm, supporting me as I choked. 

“James (cough) Potter! You (wheeze) nearly killed me!”

“I’m sorry – I really am!” He seemed really worried, and I laughed, more a hack than a laugh though. 

“I’m fine.” I took in slow, deep breaths. “Just breathed in some water, y’know?” I let James keep his arm around my back, seeing as he could stand in the water and I couldn’t, I let him take my weight while I regained my strength. I could see Sierra looking over at me with one eyebrow raised, and I realised that I was in for interrogation sometime soon. I didn’t blame her; everyone seemed surprised by my sudden decision to treat James Potter as a person. Especially James. His strong arm around my back wasn’t a particularly intimate hold, and yet he held me gingerly, as if he thought that I would all of a sudden turn on him. He looked down at me, and I could see the questions swimming there that I just couldn’t answer. I wished I didn’t have to explain everything.

 James didn’t say anything, he just pretended like what I was doing was normal, and as we swam there in the great lake, underneath a hot midday sun, I learnt my first lesson about James Potter. 

He’s fun to have fun with. He makes me laugh, he teases, he’s silly with his mates, and his impression of being eaten by the giant squid is downright hilarious. 

I was sort of worried that this first thing that I’d learned was a good thing, but I stayed determined to be fair. I wasn’t going to let my previous hate towards James stop me from being just in my decision as to who he was now. I was going to get to know the real James Potter no matter what it took. 

We swam and splashed for a few hours, then when we were tired we climbed out and Sierra and Amy and I lay on towels in the sun, and the boys flew around above us, tossing a quaffle between them. 

“Isn’t Sirius just the best looking guy?” Amy giggled. I lifted myself up onto my elbows and looked at Sierra, interested to see what her response was. But she just wholeheartedly agreed.

“ _See_ Lily? I’m not the only one who thinks he’s a sexy beast!” I peered up, looking at the four boys on broomsticks, three of them bare shirted after swimming. Peter Pettigrew was sort of a disgrace to the male race, if we were being honest. Remus wasn’t bad, but I couldn’t really tell because he had kept his own shirt on. Sirius was quite good looking, but my eyes kept straying to the last boy. I wondered why I’d never noticed just _how_ good looking James is. I guess it’s from all that Quidditch he plays, but his muscles were quite sculpted and incredibly attractive. Smiling to myself, I realised that it was a good thing that I was trying to be nice to James. Otherwise I would never have been able to allow myself to enjoy the pleasure of watching him shirtless. 

“What’s that smile for?” Sierra’s accusatory tone made me laugh. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later.” I lay back down on my towel and enjoyed the sun and the fine view.

Lesson about James Potter #2: James Potter is possible the best looking guy at the school. If you aren’t into Sirius’ long hair. 


	8. Voldemort is going down!

**Author’s Notes: I know, I know...this chapter took ages. I would like to say that I know it may take effort but it’s really encouraging when you guys review, otherwise I don’t really have as much motivation to keep going. Unless you don’t want me to keep writing. But still, you could tell me that in a review too** **J** **Thanks to everyone who’s stuck it out with me, I’ll get working on chapter nine soon.**

****

  
“So, what’s going on?”   
 

Sierra got right to the point. But I still didn’t feel like trying to explain.   
 

“What do you mean?” I hedged, knowing she wouldn’t buy it, but still trying anyway.   
 

“You, Lily Evans, know exactly what I mean. It’s not that I’m not thrilled that you’ve finally opened your eyes and realised James is a nice bloke, but why the sudden change?”  
 

“I have not decided that James is a nice bloke...yet.” Sierra raised her eyebrows at me, as she squeezed water out of her chestnut mane with her towel. We were walking up the long path to the castle from the lake. “Oh honestly Sierra, we were taught drying spells in third year!” I performed the quick charm for her.  
 

“Oh yeah...forgot about that. Anyways, what do you mean by that?” she asked, not to be deterred.   
 

“I mean that I’m listening to Sirius,” I said ambiguously. Sierra gave me ‘the eye’ and waited for me to explain.   
 

“ _Fine!_ You remember on Friday afternoon, when Sirius said that I shouldn’t be mean to James because I ‘didn’t even know who he was’? Well I sorta realised that he was...he was right. I don’t know who James is. And if I’m being fair, I can’t be a cow to him for no reason.”  
 

Sierra seemed properly confused. “So...”  
 

“So I’m going to find out who he is. That’s why I was talking to him today. Not that I don’t talk to him other days...but that’s why I was talking _nicely_. I’m going to learn everything there is to know about him so that I can go back to hating him in peace.”  
 

Sierra, understanding now, rolled her eyes. “Why do you always overthink things?”   
 

“Well excuse me for being intelligent and mature about it!” I said indignantly.   
 

“You saying I’m not intelligent?”    
 

“Maybe I am,” I laughed at her resentful ‘humph’. “Calm down, you’re not stupid.”  
 

“No, I’m not, which is why I can tell that this plan of yours isn’t going to work.”  
 

“Oh, and why is that?”   
 

“Because you’re going to realise that you can’t go back to hating him in peace. You’re going to fall in love with him.”   
 

I gave her a look of withering condescension. “I’m fairly sure I’m more intelligent than _that._ ”  
 

Sierra just laughed as we walked in through the gates to the castle. Walking past the library we saw Alice sitting at a desk, studying. We both waved at her, and she waved vaguely back at us, but indicated that she still had work to do when we asked her to come back to the Gryffindor common room with us. Back in the dorm we both took showers and sat on the couch in the common room to do our homework. We watched the sky slowly transform from light blue to dark blue to a clouded navy. Thunder rolled and a lightning flash lit up the landscape outside. The light turned eerie, and the air blowing in the open window smelt like dust and water and that unidentifiable ‘rain’ smell that drugs the senses. Inhaling deeply I grinned. “I love storms,” I commented to Sierra.   
 

“I hate ‘em.” If it were anything but this that Sierra was talking about I would just laugh and call her a wimp, but Sierra is actually petrified of storms. I remember spending half an hour once in second year coaxing her out from under her pillow after one particularly crazy rainstorm. This time she didn’t run and hide, but I saw her face tighten, her mouth thinning into a hard line as she tried to hide the terror inside.   
“Ah damn Sierra...sorry...I wasn’t thinking.”  
 

She didn’t look at me as she gave a tight smile and replied “It’s fine.”  
I know it’s really not, but I don’t try and talk to her. Sometimes, especially among friends, the best things are communicated via hug. So I pulled her tense body into my arms and hugged her tightly. “Come on, let’s go barricade ourselves in the dorm with some hot chocolate and a game of chess.”  
 

“And some loud music?” She asked, her voice hopeful.  
 

“Deafening. That thunder doesn’t stand a chance.”  
 

“I love you Lily.”  
 

“I know.” I gave her a cheeky smile as we stood.  
 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()  
 

By the next day the thundering rain had slowed to a constant drizzle. Getting up early was vexing, but I ignored the chill in the air and the pull at my sleep-deprived eyelids because my parents were what weighed most heavily on my mind right now.   
 

I was surprised to meet Dumbledore waiting for me outside the common room, but he explained that he would be the one to accompany me because he felt that it was important for him to talk to them regarding why the attack had happened. I was glad of that, because really there was no wizard in the world who I would trust with my families lives better than Dumbledore. We walked under our umbrellas through the drizzle until we were outside the boundaries of Hogwarts’ wards so we could apparate. I had turned seventeen a few months before the end of last year, and had passed my apparition test perfectly fine, but the sensation of apparating still left me dizzy and nauseous.   
 

“Wait a few moments and it will pass, Miss Evans.”  
 

I took slow, deep breaths until the world stopped spinning, then raised my eyes to see the large brick building in front of me. In the window was a dummy, and a sign that said “Closed for refurbishment.”   
 

“Are we in the right place, Headmaster?” I asked, confused.  
 

“Yes. The sign is only to deter muggles.” He then proceeded to mumble something to the dummy, which moved back subtly, and Dumbledore stepped straight through the glass. I know I’ve been a witch for years now, and mostly I’m quite desensitized from all the magical, surreal things, but I still jumped as he stepped through the glass into the red-brick department store. I followed his lead and found myself standing not in “Purge and Dowse Ltd”, but in the pale blue reception room of St Mungos. The room was littered with rickety wooden chairs with coffee tables next to them. The coffee tables sported battered, presumably out-of-date copies of ‘Witch Weekly’.  
 

Sitting on one of the chairs was an old wizard who on first sight seemed perfectly normal, but with a second glance I saw the steam trailing out of his ears at a steady rate. Witches in bright green robes bustled around between various patients and one of them walked over to greet us.  
 

“Dumbledore!” she gushed, almost tripping on her robes to shake his hand. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”  
 

“Good morning Matron. I’m simply bringing Lily to visit her parents. I wouldn’t mind speaking to their healer either,” he requested, “would that be possible?”  
 

“Oh yes! Yes anything Sir, we’d be honoured.” The Matron led us up an elevator to the fourth floor, where the main room had a sign above it reading “ **Spell Damage** ”. Dumbledore and the Matron conversed in low tones as we weaved our way through the labyrinth of corridors to a closed room with the number 342 stencilled on the door. My heart pounded in my chest and I wiped my palms methodically against my skirt.   
 

“Ah yes, this is the one!” the Matron smiled sagely at me and pulled out a small key. My breath caught as the door gave a small click and swung open. We all walked in and my eyes took a few moments to adjust to the dim lighting.   
 

The room was unlike anything that I had been expecting. It was obviously part of a hospital – the whitewashed walls, sterilised scent and clean pressed linen attested to that. But other than that, there were the strange wires and apparatuses that decorated the walls. Not to mention the flickering lights on the wall that cast a strange glow over the familiar faces lying on a double bed in the centre of the wall. My parents were pale and bruised. Their faces were turned towards each other and Dad’s hand covered Mum’s. It looked like they had fallen asleep while talking.   
 

“Wh – what are the lights for?” I asked the first question that popped into my head.   
 

“They’re a very advanced healing magic that is used typically on muggle patients affected by magic.”  
 

“Why?”   
 

“Because muggles are affected badly by magic as their bodies aren’t used to it. They aren’t made to have that magic channelled through them and it’s so foreign that their systems can shut down. The lights are just part of the effects of a healing spell that’s used to bridge that gap during the healing process.”  
 

Hearing this I realised the way that magic was just so much bigger than Hogwarts. For a moment being a healer sounded incredibly interesting. I sat down in a chair next to my Mums bedside and looked at her slack features. “Mum? Dad?”  
 

“I’m sorry sweetie, they won’t wake up.” A tear drifted down my cheek as I thought about what they must have been through. Tortured for no reason. Taken to a hospital that was from another world by people they’d never seen before. I hated this.   
 

“It’s my fault, isn’t it Dumbledore? Someone did this because they wanted to get to me. It’s the only reason anyone would go to my parents, they have no connection to the wizarding world other than me! What did I do? Who did this?”   
 

Dumbledore looked down at me soberly. “It does not do fret over that which we do not know. Even if the reason that your parents were attacked has to do with you. In no way does that make you a worse person, it simply is a demonstration of the horrors that this war has brought to our world.”  
 

My eyes widened. “This has to do with the war?”  
 

“I believe so.”  
 

It was then that I realised that this was not as simple as I may have thought. I suddenly felt small, insignificant, as though all of a sudden my family, the ones who had been my world for so long were just pawns in this sadistic world. We were just another hit for him, for You-Know-Who. If that was who it was. All of a sudden it made sense. If You-Know-Who didn’t do this, then he at least played a part in it.   
I couldn’t just stand there and watch it happen. I couldn’t just accept what he was doing. I couldn’t watch my parents lie there broken and hurt, let the ones who had always been so strong fall.  
 

I had to fight. I had to make this war end.  
 

And then it was that I realised that I was going to do something to help end this. It wasn’t so much a thought as a _knowing_ , a voice in my head that told me that in some way, some day I was going to do something to make it stop. Something told me that this was bigger than Hogwarts, bigger that seventh year, bigger than anything.   
 

Dumbledore left the room to go and speak to the healer that was in charge of assisting my parents.   
 

I followed him.  
 

“Lily, stay with your parents.” Dumbledore asked gently.  
 

“Sir, with all due respect, I can’t. Please don’t ask me to stay in the dark here. I truly want to help.”  
 

The headmaster’s brows drew together and his bright eyes bored into me. Finally he sighed gently. “Lily, I wish that you could come with me. I understand and respect your desire to vindicate your parents, but right now I must go alone. There are things concerning this case with your parents that are strictly Auror business, secrets about the war that I cannot divulge to you. I will keep you as informed as I can. Now you can either stay with your parents or apparate back to Hogwarts.”   
And then he left.  
 

I turned from the doorway back into the darkened room. I walked back to my parents bedside and took my mother’s hand gently.  
 

“Hey mum.”  
 

She stirred gently in her sleep.  
 

“I’m sorry I can’t stay too much longer. They’ll take good care of you here. Send me a letter when you’re feeling better?’   
 

‘And Mum, Dad?” I murmured. “I’m going to do something to stop this war. Maybe not now. But someday, I’ll make it so nothing like this will have to happen. I love you both.”  
 

With that I stood and walked out of the room.   
 

In a faded recess of my mind, I think I heard the words “I love you too” whispered gently as I walked down the halls, out of the hospital. I found a secluded corner of London and gulped. Step, 

Spin...destination...determination...  
 

...Ughhh...   
 

I found myself sitting on the stone outside the huge Hogwarts gates, doing all I could to stop myself from losing my dinner from last night. My legs and arms were shaking and I couldn’t bring myself to stand.  
Leaning my head back against the cool stone I put a hand to my forehead. It was clammy and warm. My stomach had stopped churning, but I still felt incredibly woozy. I let my eye’s drift shut and drew in slow, deep breaths. I didn’t realise that I had drifted off until I heard voices.   
 

“You can’t apparate outside of Hogwarts!” The voice was a harsh whisper, and something in it scared me.  
 

“I know that Regulus. But you can apparate from outside the wards.”  
“Oh...yeah.” The male’s voice, who I supposed to be Regulus, sounded younger than the other, female voice. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t bring to mind for the life of me who it was. I stood shakily and edged my way around the stone of the gates and stood in the shadowy area under a cluster of trees. The day was still cloudy and a thick fog had built, concealing the two figures that walked swiftly along the cobbled road.   
 

“Look Reg, I’m thankful for what you’ve told me, but you have to keep an eye on that meddling older cousin of yours. I’ll owl you when I’m coming back next time.”  
 

“Okay. Bye Bellatrix.”  
 

And then, right before the two people stepped out of the fog and into my view, I realised who the voice was. It was the wild-haired girl who had called me a mudblood in my third year.

It was Bellatrix Black.   


**So...who was expecting that? Tell me? In a review?  
**


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